Whatever's Next V2
by Nox Ortus
Summary: Jack returns from the war to a rundown home. Will Jack be able to revive his father's farm and get the girl of his dreams? Or are the horrors of war too much to return from? Rated T for safety


**After a MUCH longer hiatus from fanfiction (both reading and writing) then I had originally planned, I'm back! I hope to be a little more regular than I was in the past (the fact I work a job with regular hours now should help with that). Thank you to BuddysLilSis for unknowingly giving me the motivation to do this once again. **

_Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody"-Stephen Chbosky_

It was spring time in Forget-Me-Not Valley, early morning. So early the rooster had yet to rise to greet the new day. Almost all the residents of the Valley lay in their beds, dreaming their little dreams, unaware the just outside the town a man sat awake in the bed of his truck, a man who would change their lives.

Jack Logan sat on the tailgate of his '59 Ford F-250, drinking from a thermos of coffee that had gone cold after sitting overnight. Jack wasn't really drinking anyway, just absentmindedly going through the motion of bringing the top of the flask to his lips and taking a small sip of the stale black liquid.

Jack looked down the dirt path that led into the Valley, a place he had called home long ago.

_Who am I kidding? _Jack though to himself _It's the only home I've ever known._

Jack sat for a while longer, until he could see dawn cracking over the horizon. Walking around the seat of his truck he glanced inside, suddenly becoming aware of the picture he had placed in the dash when he bought the truck. He quickly grabbed the photograph and folded it along the crease and slid it into his pocket, an action he had undertaken a thousand times before. Satisfied, Jack started the truck and shifted it into gear. With the low throaty grumble of the engine filling the air he slowly moved down the path towards town.

Jack let his mind wander momentarily, he thought of the war he had just escaped, of the horrors and injustice that filled the world. In a way he separated the Valley from the rest of the world, as far as he knew the little town had never known evil, their lives never burdened by the loss of a friend before their time.

As Jack drove down the hill he shifted the truck into neutral and killed the engine. He did not want to wake the inhabitants of the Valley this way.

When Jack left the Valley a few years prior only two people owned automobiles, his father, James Logan, and Romana Riley, Jack was not sure if this had changed and he did not want to bring an unwelcome noise to the Valley during his homecoming, he had changed a lot but he wanted those lived there when he had left to know that he was still one of them. Jack wanted to make a good first impression on those who were new to the Valley.

Willing the truck to coast farther and farther Jack crossed the bridge and pulled onto the property that was once his father's and parked the truck.

Even in the dim light of the morning Jack could see the farm was a shadow of what it had been.

Only one thought crossed his mind

_Let's get to work._

_JLCMJLCMJLCMJLCM_

ALMOST everyone was lying in their beds, Celia MacPherson was the exception to this.

Celia leaned on the windowsill of her room in Vesta's farmhouse over looking the path in to the Valley. Her white nightgown and brown hair gently rustling with the morning breeze.

Celia had grown to love the cool mornings in the Valley, they were so different from the mornings at back home in the city.

_Home, the Valley is my home now. _Celia immediately thought at the prospect of the city being her home.

Celia preferred the Valley lifestyle, the simple existence, the feeling of being alone but never being truly alone, and the silence, it never felt artificial, there was always ambient noise.

Suddenly Celia heard the faint roar of an engine, a noise she was no longer accustmed to. The farmers in the Valley couldn't afford tractors and the only car she knew of in the Valley belonged to Romana, an old woman who used it to her doctor's appointments in Mineral Town once a month.

She watched the horizon as the roar suddenly stopped and a truck slipped into view. She watched as it silently moved down the hill, it's motion unaided by the engine.

Operating on it's own momentum the truck passed in front of Vesta's farmhouse and Celia's window. Celia caught a glimpse of the figure operating the truck and was noticed that he (she could tell in was a man) looked familiar, yet different.

She watched as the trucked coasted over the bridge and onto the old Logan farm, out of sight.

Celia walked backwards and fell onto her bed, wondering who this mysterious man could be.


End file.
